Letters From the Front

Dated: March 2, 1916

An action near Ypres has been on since early morning, and orders are coming in frequently regarding our procedure should we be called out. If they need us it will mean a long march most likely, and some fun.
It is some six hours since writing the foregoing, and we are about to turn in and sleep, but I shall endeavour to finish this first. Good news of the show (not far distant) has come in, although we learn that the loss of life is rather heavy. For a while it seemed likely that our brigade would be utilized for some purpose, and we are now going to sleep peacefully, unless a turn in the tide takes place.
Since my last we have had a shorter than usual spell in the front line and came through with little trouble. Captain Matthews, one of our best, was killed instantly by a sniper, while looking over the parapet at some colored lights. To be exact, by the way, our Company was not actually in the front line, but in support, and we all got the shelling there was, on our battalion frontage; 65 whizz-bangs at noon and 8 high explosives and about 65 whizz-bangs a couple of hours later—all the same day, note. It was just after I had spoken to Captain Matthews, and I was able to see the bombardment from my safe stand in the front line in the afternoon. They had me out wiring one night only, and for the first time while I have been on this job, one of my party was hit—a man in D Company. He got a 'blighty' just above the ankle, and was much envied. Our guns were active on the International trenches, and we could hear their distant booming daily. One day in particular our heavies threw over an awful stream of 8 in. and 4.7 to our right front, and fragments of the former came over us with nasty swishings, many small pieces falling around us. Again our artillery killed men—two I think—on our right, an 8 in. dropping into a dugout. It is a terrible way to suffer casualties, is it not? Yet apparently at times no one in particular can be blamed. For instance, the battery supporting us on our old front took a man's head off with a 'dud,' or blind shell. The observing R.F.A. officer continued to fire at the same range and all his shots went well over into Fritzy's rear. The one shell was unquestionably faulty